Petyr and Sansa - A Game of Thrones Fanfiction
by emmakate22
Summary: What if Sansa and Petyr got married? What was it like having sex for the first time? And what is Sansa like when she is pregnant? A Petyr and Sansa romance fanfic! Please review!


Petyr/Sansa

Sansa remembered the first time they kissed, they had gotten as far as lying on the bed. Petyr's strong hands were on either side of her head, his body lying on top of her. Their kisses were becoming more passionate by the minute until Sansa put her hands on his chest and held him up.

"This is not proper, I cannot do what we intend until marriage" Sansa said, though she deeply wished she hadn't. Littlefinger sat up and looked her over, oh how he wanted to have her, to devour her and be her first.

"Well my dear Sansa, their is only one way to remedy that," he said in a husky voice. They we inching closer until he leaned in all the way and pressed his mouth to her ear. "Marry me, Sansa" he whispered as he looked back deeply into his eyes. The soft grey hue was hinted with affection, passion yet also fear. Fear that she would not accept.

Sansa's expression was unreadable, so Petyr took hold of her hands in his. "I am not doing this to make you a pawn in my game. I want you to be mine, I can protect you, love you and be the man you want." He said, this was the first time Sansa recognised any emotion other than cunningness.

"What about my lady mother? What of your affection for her?" Sansa worried, and looked at him, to search for any sign of falseness.

"My dear Sansa, I know that in the past I have loved your lady mother. But only recently, now that I have been with you, have I realized I held nothing other than sisterly love towards Cat. I swear to you my dear Sansa, you are not your mother, you are your own person, and I love you for it." He said, yet no hint of treachery graced his features.

Sansa could feel herself being pulled towards him. She grabbed his shoulders and kissed him. His reaction was instant, gently his tongue entered her mouth and danced with hers. A sudden fire erupting in her stomach.

Petyr started to move above her, yet she quickly pulled away. Again. "You best save that for our wedding night" Sansa said, "I accept." Petyr sat still, the shock was written plainly all over his face. He grabbed either side of her face, softly, delicately an pulled her face towards him. Their lips met tenderly, no sign of passion, just romance for their was no tongue in that kiss. They both pulled away, yet kept their heads together, closed eyes and sat there, embracing each others aura.

After a while, Petyr stood and bowed towards Sansa. "We best start making our plans." He held his hand out for Sansa, she gripped it an stood trying to straighten her dress out. She closed the distance between them and Petyr snaked an arm around her waist, as he guided them into the solar of the Eyrie.

As they were walking Petyr asked Sansa "Am I right in assuming you hold no great love for Lysa and her son Robin?" "My feeling towards them are mutual, I do not care for their fates, as long as it benefits me."

"Well my dear, something can be done about that," he smirked, and for the first time, Petyr realized that Sansa was a rather good player of the game herself.

So her Sansa sat, in her room at the Eyrie, wearing a beautiful ivory coloured dress. The gold swirls that accentuated the dress, also brought out the colour of her hair which was now placed in a delicate twist with long curls down to her waist. The death of Lysa and Robin Arryn came suddenly, and the thought was that it was the stew which only the two ate. However, Sansa knew the truth, for now that their was no Arryn kin in the Vail, as soon as Sansa married, she and Petyr would become Lord and Lady of the Vail. A thought which made a smile appear on her lips, and in turn, a smile on Petyr's, for he knew he had pleased his future wife.

Her handmaiden, Kaliya entered announcing "My Lady, it is time. I am her to escort you to the aisle." Sansa nodded, and for a moment the twisting feeling in her stomach was all she could think about. The feeling of soft fabric was what drew her attention. A cloak made of white and silver, Stark colours, and an embroidered direwolf was now upon her shoulders - her maidencloak.

"Thankyou" she said, and stood to let her dress fall freely to the floor. Her handmaiden fixed a few stray pieces, and nodded when she was finished. Sansa walked towards the door, and decided, she was ready.

The walk to the sept was excruciating, she mustn't ruin her dress, must keep calm and stay strong, for herself. The double doors leading to the aisle were opened and Sansa descended down the stairs. The first thing she say when she looked up were the many faces of the knights of the Vale. In the middle were all the lords and ladies and the people standing at the front of the room consisted of various high lords and ladies, many of whom she did not know, only the familiar face of Brynden Tully, her uncle. The carpet in which she was following, turned right, and as she turned the corner, her heart stopped.

The high septon was standing underneath an arch, covered in white roses, on the top most step. But that was not why her heart raced, for it was the man who stood at the bottom, waiting to lead her up. Lord Petyr Baelish stood there, garmented in a beautiful green gown, patterns of small silver mockingbirds were printed, making there way up to his collar. As beautiful as the gown was, she could not help but to smile at the look on his face. He was nervous, that much was clear, but there was also a look of longing - not hungry, but loving.

As soon as Sansa reached him, he held out his arm, on which she laid her own. He watched her as he led her up the flight of stairs, making extra sure to not let her trip. When they reached the septon, they turned to each other, looking in their eyes, twinkling. "You may now cloak the bride, and bring her under your protection" Sansa turned, so Petyr was able to remove her old cloak, which he then replaced it with one much similar to his own. They turned beck to each other, and held their overlapping hands out to the septon. A piece of cloth was wrapped around their hands, yet the words which accompanied the ritual were lost, for neither Petyr or Sansa were listening, rather looking at each other.

Petyr was scared, scared she would back out, he had never been the victim of power, rather the employer. However his features had masked it up well, all he had to do was this of her, his bride to be. "You may now say the vows" bellowed the septon to which they replied "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his and he is mine, from this day, until the end of days" Sansa's voice was soft yet strong, and accompanied with Petyr's husky and low voice, the sound could sing songs better than any marillion.

"May this man and wife be bound as one, and seal it with a kiss" said the septon. The couple came together and Petyr placed his hands on either side of her waist, he leaned his head down, as Sansa looked up. Their lips met and time stopped. The kiss was much like the one before, soft and gentle, passionate and strong. They pulled apart, for they knew they would have plenty of time for that later. Petyr could not help this childish grin that appeared on his face, to which Sansa replied with an even bigger one.

Applause filled the Sept of Arryn, and Petyr took Sansa's hand as he walked her down the steps. The door shut behind them and they calmly walked to her bedroom, for it was now dark. There would be no wedding feast, as a symbol of mourning, for the Arryn family, nor would their be a bedding ceremony. That liberty was up to them.

They reached Sansa's bedroom, and entered. Once they we inside, Sansa walked over to her bed while Petyr locked the door. Making sure the windows were shut and the fireplace had wood, Petyr walked over to Sansa. He embraced her, "Are you sure you want to do this? We can always do it another time." He asked, wanting to make Sansa as comfortable as possible. "I want to do it tonight, here, now." She said, with a strong voice which did not waver.

He tilted her face up, with one slender finger and kissed her. So passionately, Sansa's stomach did flips inside her. She kissed back just as hard, whilst letting his tongue enter her mouth. Why did no one ever tell her how good it feels to kiss someone? To truly kiss them. Step by step they made their way closer to the bed, yet stopped when Sansa's legs touched the mattress. The kissing became more intense, and as it did, Petyr found his hands roaming Sansa's body. His hands ran down her back, over her waist, and up her stomach. He gently touched her breasts, which made her moan into him. This made his actions more frantic, he started to undo her dress. With one fluid motion, her dress fell to the floor and Sansa was left in her small clothes.

Feeling unequal, Sansa's inexperienced hands started to explore his body, taking his top off to reveal a long scar, from navel to collarbone. She looked at him questioningly, he simply said "A tale for another time." Sansa kissed it, starting at the top, and working her way down, he groaned, such a rare sound to ever leave his mouth. Their lips returned to each other and Petyr gently leaned forward, making Sansa fall on her back and land on the bed. She crawled up to the pillow and laid her head down as she watched her husband. Husband.

He looked at her on the bed, with glazed eyes, it was plain how much he wanted her. He unlaced his pants and let them fall to the floor, now left in just his underpants. Sansa felt very special, as his manhood was tented - all for her! He crawled onto the bed and laid on top of Sansa, one leg on either side if hers, his hands supporting himself above her head. Petyr leaned down, and gave a chaste kiss, which became more passionate each time he gave one. Sansa's hands found their way into his back, pulling him closer. As his tongue worked in her mouth, he reached down and unclad per her bra with one hand. She retreated her hands and sat up, but before she could cover herself, Petyr grabbed her wrists and whispered in her ear "Don't, your beautiful."

Sansa put her hands down, and Petyr looked at her, his expression was one of absolute pure amazement. He grabbed the back of her head with one hand and laid her back down, while the other hand pressed on her stomach. He was back kissing her again, never getting enough. His hand roamed up and massaged her left breast, she moaned and arched her back into him, and he smiled. He flicked one of her nipples with his thumb "Oh Gods!" She yelled, and Petyr looked into her Tully blue eyes. "Would you like more?" he teased, and all Sansa could do to reply was moan. He traced her stomach down to the top of her panties, to which she opened her eyes wide, looking worried. "Don't fret, my dear beauty. You are safe with me." She rested her head down on the pillow again yet wasn't quite as comfortable as before.

His hand slipped into her knickers and he moaned as he felt her wetness. One of his fingers ran along her slit, and stopped at her hard nub. "Dear Gods!" Sansa screamed and held onto Petyr tightly. He was relishing in the feeling if being able to make her feel this way, and loved how she clung to him. His fingers started tracing circles on her clit which elicited more loud moans, and Sansa started rocking her hips into him. Once she was wet enough, Petyr removed his hand. Sansa, however felt as though she hadn't done enough yet, so as they were kissing, she snaked her hand down his firm body and groped the bulge in his pants. He jerked suddenly, and groaned very loudly, looking deep into her eyes. She felt him, hard, thick, and very long. How on earth would he fit?

Sansa stopped stroking and Petyr stood off the bed, removed his underwear and stood there. As naked as his nameday. Sansa stared in awe, "Your huge!" Petyr just smirked, and laid back on the bed. He gently removed her panties and they were both completely naked. He pressed his warm body on top of his, and started to kiss her. At this point, it was purely need that drove the kisses, and once it was too much, he whispered in her ear "Are you ready to be mine, my beautiful Sansa?" "Oh, dear gods! Yes Petyr...take me!" Was her needy reply. He crawled down her body, hands leaving prickles in her skin, wherever they touched. He spread her legs open, and placed himself at her entrance. Petyr stretched back up to Sansa's level and looked into her eyes, flicking her clit as he watched her. "Are you ready?" "Gods..Yes, do it!"

With another look into her eyes, he thrust his hips forward and plunged into her, moaning at the feeling of being inside of her. However that moan was drowned out by Sansa's heart wrenching scream. She lifted her head, and buried her face into his shoulder, and hugging his back so tightly, it was sure to leave a mark. He embraced her, held her, for he knew the pain she was in and it was all for him. She was his, had given herself to him, her innocence, there was no better thought than that. She gently let go, and fell back onto the pillow, he held her cheek as she adjusted to his size. "My dear, are you okay?" "Yes, you are with me, my love." At that reply, Petyr started to move inside her, in and out until Sansa's whimpers because moans of pleasure.

She struggled to find her voice, "Harder," she said and that was all it took. Petyr grabbed her waist and filled her with him, right to the hilt. "Ohhh... Fuck!" He yelled, at finally being fully inside her. His yell was met with a moan, as there was no more pain in it for Sansa, just pure ecstasy. She moved her hips up, to join his thrusts, and Petyr placed his elbows on either side of her face, above her shoulders. He looked into her eyes, and could tell how much pleasure there was, for he felt it as well. He began a rhythm, thrusting in time. Petyr was close, he could feel it, however he wanted Sansa to release before him so he moved his finger down and started rubbing her sweet spot. She was trembling and moaning already, so when the touch came, she gripped his back, her nails digging in. "Ahhh" his thrusts became erratic.

The pleasure finally taking over her, she came to her climax. "PETYR!" She screamed and clenched her walls around his throbbing member. At hearing her name, Petyr grabbed her hips and slammed into her, thrusting hard and fast. "Oh, Petyr, oh Petyr..." She mumbled, which was heaven in his ears. Petyr knew it was him making her cum, his name she was shouting, and that was what brought him over the edge screaming "Sansa!" as he filled her with his hot seed. They both jerked in their orgasms and Petyr pulled out, he lay down next to her, lying on his side. Sansa lay on her side as well, staring into the depth of her new husbands eyes, she smiled an so did he.

"Thankyou," Sansa said, "No, thankyou" Petyr said as he stroked her cheek. "Seriously, you made my first time amazing, you cared for me, and I do believe I love you," Sansa said. He stared at her, the woman of his dreams just told him she loved him. He smiled and kissed her forehead, they fell asleep holding each other.

Weeks flew by, with Sansa being Lady of the Vail and her husband, The Lord. They spent most of their days apart working on various needs, except for mealtimes, which they eat together in the Dining Hall. Sansa spent most of her days caring for the injured, the children and women and the food. Whereas Petyr spent his day on finance, security and all other duties taken on by a Lord. It was nighttime, and both. Petyr and Sansa were sitting alone in the Hall, waiting for their food to be prepared. Talking of their day, Petyr was holding Sansa's hand, nothing had changed.

The servants brought out their meal, Lamprey pie, one of Sansa's favourites. However the smell reached her before it could be set down and she immediately became nauseous. Sansa stood very quickly, and ran out of the room, to the kitchens and grabbed a bucket. She sat down and emptied the contents of her stomach into the newly cleaned container. Sansa didn't realize that Petyr had immediately chased her out of the Hall, and suddenly was behind her. He crouched down and soothed calming circles onto her back while she vomited violently. With the other hand, he draped her hair back. Worry and concern were etched onto his face, unsure of why his wife was so suddenly ill.

"My love, what is the matter?" Petyr asked now that she had finished heaving. He pulled her into his lap and rested her head on his chest "I don't know Petyr, I couldn't handle the smell of the food I suspect." She answered. "I shall get you some water and we shall both go to bed." Before Sansa could protest, Petyr picked her up and held her to his chest. "I am capable of walking, you know" she said, sullen. "I know, but do I care? No." He rested her head I a pillow, and placed a glass of water on her bedside table and by the time her climbed into bed next to her, Sansa was fast asleep. Their sleep was cut short, when Sansa awoke again and vomited heavily into her chamber pot. Petyr awoke to the sound of her coughing, and jumped out of bed faster than she did. "That's it, I'm getting Maester Qhorah" Petyr said with finality after helping Sansa, and now that she had stopped throwing up. Sansa simply nodded, too tired to do anything else.

When Maester Qhorah arrived, escorted by her husband, Sansa was already back in bed. Petyr sat by her side, holding her hand as the Maester ran a series of tests. After about 30 minutes, Maester Qhorah asked Petyr to step out of the room. "Not a chance in the Seven Hells will I leave my wife" he stated firmly as his grasp tightened on her hand. "Petyr, it is almost midday, and you have not yet broken your fast. Go and eat, and I will follow you when he is finished," Sansa said, as she knew the Maester will need to talk. Petyr did not make to move so Sansa looked into his eyes and said "I will be fine my love, go now." Petyr got up, huffed and walked out the door.

When the door shut, Maester Qhorah and old frail man, his shaky voice rang out. "Now my dear, I have just a couple of questions for you to answer. "Have your clothes become tighter by any chance, not just in the stomach area?" Sansa looked perplexed, "Yes, now that you mention it," she answered wondering how at all that could have been related. "Alright, and have your breasts been sore, uncomfortable?" Sansa flushed a bright red colour, for she had not formed such a close bond with Maester Qhorah than that with Maester Luwin. "Yes," she stated, hoping the embarrassment would soon fade away. "One last question, and you needn't be so embarrassed, I am a Maester, I do not judge, nor tell anyone about another patient" this made Sansa feel a lot better, "When did you have your last moons blood?" Sansa stopped. Stayed still, didn't move. With everything being so busy, she didn't realize, "I have not bled for two moons" she stated. Though she knew what was happening.

Maester Qhorah looked at Sansa with excitement. "My dear, it gives me great pleasure to tell you that you are with child." And with that, he departed. With child, baby, I am going to be a mother, she thought. Petyr and I, have a child, a family. Oh Gods, Petyr! She jumped out of her bed, making the canopy swing. Even though she got lightheaded, it did not slow her down. Sansa got dressed in one of her gowns, and fixed her hair. She looked at herself in the mirror, and put a hand on her stomach. I will be a mother, the thought excited and scared her at the same time. But she told herself to calm down and she made her way to the dining hall. She found her husband sitting at the head of the table with a plate full of food, yet not touching a piece of it.

When he saw her, he stood up and took her hand as he lead her to a seat next to him. He could tell she was worried, and thought the worst. "My love, my beautiful Sansa, what did the Maester say?" He asked, trying to look into her eyes. She looked up at him and said "It is nothing, just but a sickness that will eventually stop," she phrased her words well, but did not realize how worried her husband was. She kissed him, a long passionate kiss, which Petyr all but melted into it. "Shall we eat together?" He asked and Sansa smiled. The servants soon entered with some dry crackers, cheese and grapes, as Sansa was not up to eating a full meal. Petyr poured himself a glass of red wine, and went to pour some in Sansa's cup. But before he could pour, she put her hand over the rim of her cup. "I can't have any wine" hoping that dropping subtle hints would get him to realise.

Petyr looked at her weirdly, and shrugged. "Well, maybe you can have some tomorrow, if you feel well." Obviously not. "No, I can't have any for the next nine moons" Petyr, instead poured her a glass of honey milk. Petyr looked at Sansa, and noticed that she didn't seem herself. "My dear, is there anything you wish to tell me?" He asked, while taking a bite of his baked fish. She looked at him and swallowed, now or never she thought. "Actually, I do." Petyr put down his fork slowly and rested his hands under his chin. "I have not had my moons blood in two moons" she said quietly. It clicked inside her husbands mind.

The vomiting, the tiredness, the refusal to drink wine - for nine moons! How could he be so blind! Even after running a whore house, he failed to notice the symptoms. He must not have realised the blank look on his face, because Sansa said loudly and proudly "I'm with child, Petyr." Petyr stood up so fast, the table shook, but he did not care because by the time he noticed, he was pulling Sansa into the biggest hug possible. They broke apart and Sansa's lips were met with his, Petyr using one hand to hold the back of her head and the other to wrap around her back. When they broke apart, she laughed, a natural yet beautiful laughed that sounded like the bells of Kings Landing, no of Winterfell.

"Are you being truthful? This is the best news I have ever heard! We have a child! A family of our own!" He said as he picked her up and spun her around. She laughed once again, music to Petyr's ears. He placed her down gently, and put a warm hand on her stomach, and one around her waist. "Shall we go for a walk?"

Almost seven moons had passed since Sansa told Petyr about her pregnancy. She was now huge, ready to give birth any day now. But Sansa was getting very frustrated, because her ever loving husband wouldn't let her do anything without him being with her, that included bathing. It was supper time on the 23rd day of the 9th moon. Petyr and Sansa Baelish were holding a feast in honour of their soon coming child. There was meat of every kind, and fruit to match it. The finest wines had been brought from the Vale Cellar, and lords and ladies danced until the moon shone bright. Each attendee were given the opportunity to tell The Lord and Lady of the Vale of there baby name suggestions. Both Petyr and Sansa liked Lyrell, for the girl and Kyel for the boy, so now it was just a waiting game.

The guest were leaving and the lights were dimming when Petyr and Sansa went to bed. Yet not 3 hours had past before Sansa woke up, her water breaking. She screamed, which woke Petyr up, shouting "What is wrong, Sansa?" She was writhing in pain and lying on her side facing away from him. "It's time, the baby is coming!" She said as another contraction hit her. Petyr sprang to life and sprinted around the bed. He helped her sit up, and held her hand while rubbing her back when another contraction came. He yelled for the midwives to come, and within 5 minutes, they were there. Sansa was screaming and clutching to Petyr with her life, the contractions only 3 minutes apart.

The midwives cleared her bed of its blankets and replaced them with towels. Propping the pillows up and Sansa along with it. They changed Sansa into a white gown and took her undergarments off. "It hurts, badly, it hurts Petyr" she bawled into his shoulder as he held her. "I know Sweetling, but it will be over soon. Think of our child." He felt bad for her, after all he was the one who got her pregnant. His train of though was broken by Sansa's ethereal scream. One of the midwives, he didn't know her name, screamed "She is ready to push!" The midwife went to her legs and spread them apart, putting a towel up to block the view. "No, no no no, I'm not ready, I can't do this, not now" Sansa babbled, but Petyr wouldn't have any of it. "Yes you can, you can and you will, bring our baby out, they need to meet the world! I am right here with you!"

He squeezed her hand as she squeezed his, pushing with all her might. Screaming, screaming all the same. Another, after another, Sansa kept pushing, doing her part to bring the miracle of their love to life. "The head is crowning, I need you to push, this one will be the most painful, but one of the last ones" soothed the midwife. Sansa pushed, pushed the life out of her, Petyr was whispering messages in her ear the whole time, comforting her. And with one final push, their was a scream, other than Sansa. A little girl was born to them, Lyrell Catelyn Baelish, a name that meant something to both of them.

The midwife cleaned the baby and handed her to her parents. Sansa and Petyr were in awe, so much so that they didn't realize the midwives had cleaned Sansa and packed all their items away, and disappeared. She had beautiful Tully red hair, but had Petyr's distinct eyes - grey with touches of green, Sansa's delicate lips and Petyr's perfect nose. Petyr shifted his attention to Sansa, his wife and now the mother of his child. "You did so well, she is perfect" he said as a tear slid down his cheek. Sansa pulled his face towards hers and kissed it away. He turned his head and kissed her on the lips, soft and gentle, his way of saying thankyou for everything in a nutshell. Only very deserving people see this side of Petyr, he however save Littlefinger for others, or anyone who tries to hurt his family.


End file.
